


The Villain of your viewpoint

by yOyO_101



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/F, Homophobic Language, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Other, metions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-03-15 02:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 11,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yOyO_101/pseuds/yOyO_101
Summary: Antonio shifted his weight between his feet. He was definitely in for it now. His gamble was too big, and hadn’t paid off. Charlie was going to be hurt, and it would be all his fault





	1. Surprise Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it stinks

Racetrack was curled up in his bed. Fast asleep, in his bed. No broken windows, no broken locks - just there. A bolt of rage shot through Sean before he got a better look at Race and... oh god. His pale skin was coated in dirt and bruises, and with each shallow breath he shook like a leaf. Dried blood ran under his nose, and down his cheek. There were finger marks around his neck, as if he was strangled. Purple and brown bruises in the shape of knuckles underlined Race’s right eye, and Sean suspected there were more littering his abdomen. He let him sleep. He went into the kitchen and made food, something warm to drink, and fished out some painkillers. Their eyes flicked over when Race made a clammy appearance. 

“Sit down,” they ordered. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve taken look at your wounds.” The villain sat, huddled in one of the hero’s old hoodies. 

“You’re not interrogating me. Or angry.” 

“Oh, I’m furious. But shockingly enough for once not at you. If I ask you what happened you’re going to run aren’t you?” 

The villain didn’t deny. This was different, somehow.


	2. Payment for your mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text surrounded by * are flashbacks

48 hours earlier   
Antonio shifted his weight between his feet. He was definitely in for it now. His gamble was too big, and hadn’t paid off. Charlie was going to be hurt, and it would be all his fault. 

 

*Antonio shuddered. He should of brought a jacket, or maybe even wear jeans instead of gym shorts. Two sets of hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him off the curb into a nearby ally. His head was slammed into the brick wall of a cafe, and his vision blurred. 

“Well look who we finally found Oscar, Higgins is alive.”* 

 

A cough from Snyder the spider pulled Antonio from his thoughts. “If I’m not mistaken boy, your task was clear, eliminate the target.”

“Yes sir” he mumbled in reply. 

“But, it seems Mr. Colon is still standing in the way of my victory. “

“I’m sorry sir.”

“Your sorries aren’t gonna cut it. You’ve been behind on your payments, and you can’t seem to be able to complete your job. I’ve been too soft on you boy for too long. Morris, Oscar, get the cripple.”

“No! Please sir, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt him.” Antonio pleaded. There was no way he could let his little brother take the fall for his screw ups. “I’ll up my payments, I’ll do better I swear, I’ll take both our beatings, just please, don’t hurt him.” Antonio’s voice cracked as he begged Snyder again to spare Charlie from anymore pain. 

The two brothers looked to their boss, as he repeated his orders, “Oscar, Morris, get the crip!”


	3. Story of our past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of why Race is a “villain”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make it longer this time. I’ll try to take suggestions for other works in the comments.

Charlie tightened the old wrap around the handle of his crutch. He was struck with nostalgia as he remembered how he had acquired it.

* “Come on Ant hurry up. I wanna see the falls before the trail closes!”   
“Calm down Char we’ll be down there soon enough. Take a moment, you gotta wait for ma and pop to catch up.”   
“Humph” Charlie plopped on the wet dirt as he waited for his parents to finish the trail. He looked up at his older brother and role model. Antonio was 12 at the time, and Charlie was 8. Antonio was everything Charlie wanted to be. He was smart( in Charlie’s eyes at least), he was brave, he stood up for himself, and he took care of Charlie. When he was being made fun of at school, Antonio had taken care of the bullies( and no he did not hit them, he saved his fist for his own problems), when he broke his wrist halfway through summer camp, Tony stayed with him to make sure he had as much fun as possible. 

“Alright boys, you ready for an adventure?”   
“Come on ma, hurry up!” He whined and pulled on his ma’s arm, in an attempt to make her walk faster.   
“I’m coming, I’m coming”

Once they finished the quarter~mile hike to the waterfall, Maria Higgins began to set up their picnic, and told her boys that they could go play “as long as they stayed close”. They happily agreed, and ran off towards to river. 

“Hey Ant, check this out!” Tony looked towards his little brother as he jumped from rock to rock. 

“Ha. Cool, Char, just remember to be careful, k.”

Charlie rolled his eyes “I know, mom.”

Just as Tony was about to reply with a snarky come back, the brothers heard a scream come from their camp. 

“Char, I need you to listen to me carefully ok.” Charlie nodded. “Good, we’re going to get out of the river, and I need you to stay close to me.” As much as he tried, Antonio couldn’t stop his overwhelming worry from leaking into his voice. 

Antonio pulled Charlie onto his back and began to jump from rock to rock until the reached the bank. He put Charlie down, and began to pull him to where they had set up camp, after about two steps on dry land, they could tell what the screaming was about. 

There she was, lifeless on the ground, with a bullet hole in her head. Their father, Marco Higgins, was no where to be found. Neither brother made a sound as they approached the woman who was always so full of joy and love. 

“Mama” a small whisper leaked from the 8year old mouth. “Mama, wake up”

“Your Ma ain’t gonna be waking up no more boy, she’s gone.” Marco’s voice came from behind the boys, where their father seemed to materialize. 

“What did you do to her.” Antonio’s voice was firm and full of fury. 

“She got what”

“NO,” Antonio exploded cutting him off, “YOU MURDERED HER! YOU MURDERED HER FOR NO REASON! YOU SICK AWFUL PERSON! YOU MURDERED YOUR OWN WIFE! OUR MOTHER! FOR NO GOOD REASON! YOU SHOULD OF DIED NOT HER!”

Charlie barley heard anything Antonio was yelling about. He was to focused on his mother. Moments of her life replayed in his head. Maria reading bedtime stories, the smell of homemade food wafting out from the kitchen into the back yard where the boys played, walking to mass each Sunday morning, and most importantly, the smile always painted on her face. He was so out of it, that he didn’t notice the truck come barreling towards him, until it was too late. If not for Antonio, he would have died. At the last minute, Tony launched himself through the air, and knocked Charlie out of the way. Neither of the brothers were spared. Charlie’s right leg was crushed, and Antonio fractured several ribs, and had a concussion. Both boys passed out from pain. Tony was out for a week and Charlie was out for 5 days. When they woke up, they were no longer in the forest. Instead they were locked in a small room, that could better be described as a cell. After being locked in the “room” for a week and a half, Antonio was given a deal. Go to work for Snyder, like his father had, or stay locked in their room and be treated as prisoners. He accepted the deal and eventually became known to the police community as Racetrack Higgins, a criminal for hire.*

Tony was 24 now, and Charlie was 20. They practically grew up working for Snyder. Antonio stole, bet, and completed other work for Snyder. He was also forced to pay him for “protection”. When Antonio slipped up, he was beat. Snyder’s other employees, the Delaney brothers, Morris and Oscar, would slip on brass knuckles and go at it for hours. Except after years of being beat by his father, Tony had built up his pain tolerance. Once the brothers discovered this, they took to beating Charlie with his own crutch, and making Antonio watch. After they did it once, he never slipped up. (Of course they still beat him up for fun). Then Spot came along. Sean “Spot” Colon, the newest member of the Manhattan Police Department. Antonio’s job was simple. Eliminate the threat, the only problem was that Tony was madly in love with him. He couldn’t complete his task, and it would cost his brother greatly.

Morris banged his fist against the wall. “Come on ya crip, Snyder wants ya.” Charlie started to get up, but apparently it wasn’t fast enough for Morris since he called out again saying “We doesn’t got all day limp speed it up ‘for I makes you.” He did as he was told. He found out the hard way that being rebellious would only lead to more pain, and longer beatings for him and his brother.


	4. Clues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot’s point of view with Jack and Davey. Sorry for the late update, I had the flu all last week and couldn’t work. It’s a little shorter than usual, but next update will be longer.

“ ‘morning Spot” 

“ ‘morning Jackie, ‘morning Mouth.” Sean greeted his foster-brother and foster-brother’s boyfriend, as he poured coffee into 3 mugs. One cream, two sugars for Davey in his pug mug, four sugars and 2creams for Jack and his “I’d rather be in Santa Fe” mug, and black for Sean is his NYPD mug. 

David grunted instead of a reply. It was well known by anyone who has seen him before nine in the morning that there was no functioning without coffee. After his extremely long drink, Davey let his head drop between his shoulders, nearly hitting the marble counter top. “Jack,” he slowly began, “what time is it?” 

“ ‘bout nine-thirty. You slept in today babe.” 

“ Uh-huh. And what day is it?”

“Thursday the eleventh.”

“Shit.” 

“Something wrong Dave?” There was no doubt Jack was concerned about his boyfriend. David hated cussing, and calls Jack(or any of their friends) out every time they cuss. 

“Just the fact that my article was due on Deaton’s desk one hour ago. And now I’m probably going to loose the biggest story I’ve ever been given to write. Then Deaton will only let me keep writing art commissions. Not that there’s anything wrong with writing about your art Jack, just I don’t understand art and Deton definitely can tell through my writing and then he’ll realize he doesn’t need a twenty year old news writer and,” David’s answer was more of a rant, but he has anxiety and the boys were pretty used to it now, especially Jack. 

“Hey, babe, look at me.” Davey lifted his head high enough for Jack to see his eyes. “Deaton would never fire you. Ok. You are the best writer he has. And he if he tries to fire you , he’ll have to go through me first.” That got a shakey laugh out of David. “Just write an amazing article as usual, and it’ll all be fine. I’ll even make Spot be nice and help.”

 

At hearing the nick name Jack so lovingly gave him, Sean looked up from his cereal. “ Help with what exactly?” 

“Davey’s article. He’s writing about Racetrack Higgins.Your leading the investigation on him right?” 

“Yeah. Speaking of which, I got to get going, but mouth can stop by if he needs to talk, or just call me.” With that, Sean collected his coat, hat, and briefcase, and was off to city hall. 

...........

“Officer Colon?” 

“Yes sir.” Sean spun around his chair to face his colleague. “What can I do for you?” 

“Captain wants you in his office for your case briefing on Higgins.”

“Thanks. Let him know I’ll be right in.” Sean took a minute to gather his things, and walked to the captain’s office. “You wanted to see me sir?”

 

“Yes. The mayor wants an update on your case.” Sean coughed and suddenly became interested in his shoes. “You do have an update, right?” 

“Of course I do. I definitely know more about the kid who can somehow out run the dogs, slip through the fingers of our best guards, and avoid being seen by any type of security system. How could I not have an update?” Sean’s fist slammed on the oak desk, causing the captain’s coffee to wobble. “I’m just that good right? The new guy with an anger problem who got kicked out of the Brooklyn Police Department, and everyone on the Manhattan Police Department hates, has a case breaking clue!” 

 

The captain raised his eyes so he was glaring directly at Sean. “Well then, I suggest instead of yelling at your boss, you get out there and find something. If I were you, I’d be stopping at the last place your perp was seen.” Sean raised his eyebrows in surprise, as he began to exit the office. “Bring that journalists friend of yours along too. He got a good instinct, plus I hear he needs something for his article on Higgins. What? You and Specs aren’t the quietest of talkers.” A small chuckle escaped Sean’s mouth. “Now get out of my office.”

............

“Come on mouth, you’re coming with me.” Sean walked towards the sound of typing coming from the kitchen table. 

 

“No Spot. I have to finish my article. I’m not going to come with you to another gay bar so you can find a boyfriend. Take one of your brothers instead.” Davey didn’t look up at Sean to shut him down, nor did his typing stop. 

“One-we go to the bar because they have endless beer and wings. Two- I’m not taking my brothers cause they’re all jackasses, especially your boyfriend. Three- your coming to work on a case, captain’s orders, not mine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he likes you more than he likes me. He already thinks you’re a better detective than me.”

 

“Uh huh. If he didn’t like you, he could put you on a lower profile case. Plus, he lets you yell at him. How many other people do you see doing that and not get fired? None. He likes you plenty.” David looked up at Sean after finishing his speech. “Don’t act surprised, I talk to Specs, he is my friend and boyfriend’s brother.” 

 

“You talk a lot Mouth. Now hurry up, you can type in the car.”


	5. Your Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race deals with the rath of Snyder himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry for the late update. Everything’s been really hectic lately. Also sorry that’s short, I was just focused on updating. I wrote this rushed so it probably sucks. Comments are always welcome. Probably not going to write in Spot’s point of view for a while, since the last chapter was bad. Anyway, enjoy!

The last two hours were probably the worst in Tony’s life. Blow upon blow rained down in his brother, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, he couldn’t even turn away. Morris had tied his hands around a pole, before him and his brother took to soaking Charlie with brass knuckles, his makeshift crutch, and their feet. Tony couldn’t hear anything but the sound of each blow hitting his brother and his brother’s yells of pain. Tears of anger and frustration rolled down his face, and is arms were sore from pulling against his bonds. Once Oscar untied him, he went straight to his brother, asking him questions to make sure he was still alive. 

“Char, are you ok? Im so sorry Char this is all my fault.” Race continued to tend to his brothers injuries, only getting small yelps or nods in reply. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll wake up in time to witness your punishment.” Tony looked up to see Oscar’s smug face standing over him, readjusting his brass knuckles. “Come on ya know the drill, get up.” Tony reluctantly back away from his brother, as Oscar dragged Charlie to the pole and secured his arms around it. Snyder made his way down from his viewing point, switch in hand, as Morris and Oscar pulled off Tony’s shirt as to let their boss ‘teach a lesson’.


	6. Time to leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race decides to leave Snyder’s bunker and get help from Spot

Race was only aware of the thrashing pain in his back, and the screaming. He couldn’t tell you who was screaming, it might of been himself in pain, Charlie begging for Snyder to stop, or Snyder calling out insults. 

Later, Charlie told him that he’d been given 30 lashes, but passed out around 20~ish. After the lashes were administered, he and Charlie were locked back in their cell, and Snyder was coming back to finish Tony’s punishment, if he was awake, or not. The brothers talked for about a hour, mainly about what jobs Tony was given, and what was happening in the city. Eventually the topic of Sean Colon came up. Sean was a Manhattan police officer Tony was told to follow and get information about. However, he ended up developing a huge crush on Mr. Colon. That was great, Tony got to see the strong, beautiful boy he fell in love with everyday. It worked great, until Snyder decided he got all the information he needed, and ordered Tony to kill the detective discovering all the dirty secrets he tried so hard to hide. There was no way he could do that. He perched on the roof across of Sean’s building, ready to take his shot, but chickened out at the last minute, and attempted to hide from his boss for as long as possible. Obviously that didn’t last very long, since Snyder’s personal goon brothers found him, and soaked him in a alleyway between a pizza joint, and a cafe, before bring him in to Snyder.

The boys continued to chat, until Tony decided they needed to get some sleep, since they would definitely have a very exhausting and rather painful day ahead of them. However, once he actually got to sleep, Tony was plagued with nightmares,per usual. This time he dreamt he was eight and back in the bedroom he shared with Charlie, who was four at the time. They were sitting on Tony’s bed, playing with Charlie’s dinosaur toys while Maria was making dinner. It should’ve been a peaceful scene, a middle class family with two boys playing while their mother made dinner and waited for their dad to come home. And it would’ve been peaceful, if Mario Higgins wasn’t an alcoholic who regularly beat his wife and sons. Charlie’s T-Rex was about to devour   
Tony’s triceratops when the front door was aggressively shoved open, and the scent of stale beer wafted into the apartment. Loud yelling could be heard from the kitchen, as well as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. The younger of the two boys clung to the elder “I’m scared Any,” he whispered into his brother’s side.

“I know, I am too. But you need to listen to me ok.” A quick nod from Charlie prompted him to continue. “Good, I need you crawl under the bed and don’t come out until I tell you to. No matter what I need you to stay down, even if you hear yelling or anything else, stay down.” Tony finished giving his instructions to his little brother, as heavy, uneven footsteps made their way down the hall and toward the small bedroom. “Go, remember, stay down.” Charlie gave a shaky nod and disappeared underneath the bed as the doorknob began to turn. “Hey, Pa your home early.”  
........

Race woke up just at the climax of his latest recurring nightmares. He remembered the ending vividly(of course he did, it was one of his worst memories after all). His father would yell, stumble around the room a bit, before removing his belt and using it on Race, 12 times if he remembers correctly. He eventually got bored with Race and started to search around the room for his other son. Normally, Mario would be too drunk to really care about Charlie, but today was different. Eventually he grasped onto Charlie’s ankle, and dragged him out from under the bed, screaming and kicking. Mario would then repeat the same steps used on Race. This was the first time Charlie was ever beat. This was when Race made a vow, that never again would his brother be hurt if he could stop it. 

Once his vision cleared, Race saw the reason of his sudden awakening. Morris was standing above him with an evil glint in his eyes. “Time to get up. Snyder wants to finish ya soaking” 

Race pushed himself into a sitting position on the small cot in the corner of his cell. He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, stretched and got up to follow Morris into the main room of Snyder’s underground bunker.   
..........  
Hours pass, and the Delaneys still haven’t let up, nor do they show any chance of doing so. This was definitely one of his longer soakings. On the bring side, he hadn’t passed out yet, and every once in a while, he managed to land a solid hit on one of the two. However, spots were beginning to dance in his eyes, and it was getting harder and harder to understand what was being said. Eventually, Snyder said something(probably stop) and the hits let up. The warden came sulking down from his perch, and circled Race like a vulture. He slipped on his own pair of brass knuckles, ordered the brothers to hold Race up, and hit him right across the face. A loud crunch could be heard and Race began to spit out blood when the brothers released his arms, and he sunk to the floor.

The brothers dumped him back into his cell, and Charlie was nowhere to be found. He was probably doing chores or begging for food from the cook. Race collapsed onto his mat. “I need to get out of here” he thought. And with that, he picked the lock on the window, slipped through the tiny hole in the wall, and made his way to the only place he knew he would be safe- Sean’s apartment.


	7. Intertwining tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony shares his story with Spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented, and left kudos on this work. I know the updates are random, but you keep me going, and give me the determination I need to write. Also buckle in cause our story is just getting started

PRESENT TIME  
The hero sat across from the villain as he dank the coffee in front of him. He really should call this in. The criminal he’s been hunting for years was sitting in his apartment. This could be his chance, his name would go down in history as the man who captured the best con artist of this century. But he couldn’t, the villain had come to him for his help. Who was he to decline him that. He had risked his freedom for his help. Finally, the villain spoke.

“What do you know about me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but even making that little sound seemed to cause him pain. His head rose up so that his tired blue eyes were looking straight into Sean’s deep brown eyes. The villains eyes looked as if they were originally bright, and full of life, however, overtime they faded into the tired and frantic blue due to years of disappointment and fear. 

“I know that you’ve worked for Stanley Snyder since you were 12. I know that you hate working for him, but can’t leave. I know you think outside of the box in order to complete your assignments. I know you’re protecting someone.” Sean looked back into he villain’s eyes as he asked his question. “What do you know about me?”

“I know your name is Sean Patrick Colon. I know your father worked for Snyder himself. I know you were adopted by Ms. Medda Larkin at the age of 10, after your mother and father were killed for not delivering you to Snyder. I know you have 3 brothers and a sister. I know their names are Jack, Spencer, Elizabeth, and Eli. I know they go by their nicknames of Specs, Smalls, and Elmer. I know you are gay,and love to go to Jacobi’s dinner for lunch. I know you live with your older brother Jack, and his boyfriend David Jacobs, who you call mouth. I know Jack gave you the nickname Spot because of the freckles 10 year old you was covered in. I know you have an anger issue, and were transferred out of the Brokelyn district because of a outburst. I know your current captain sees himself in you. I know you like your coffee black. I know you vowed to destroy Snyder and his operation. I know that’s why you took my case. I know you can help me.” The villain’s anxious words tumbled out of their mouth, like a waterfall. 

“Why should I help you. I could turn you in, and get myself a pay raise.”

“Because you’re right. I’ve been protecting my little brother. I hate the things I do, but I hate the things they do to him if I fail, even more. And once you help me you can turn me in, I won’t stop you. I deserve to die for what I’ve done, but Charlie doesn’t deserve any of it. Help him please.” The villain’s voice cracked at the end of his pleads, as he was over come with emotion. 

The hero thought over what the villain had said. “Ok, I’ll help you. But, you have to tell me your story. I need to know who you are if I’m going to help you.” Sean leaned forward, spit in his palm, and held it out for the villain to shake. The villain eagerly did the same, and took his hand, sealing their deal. 

The villain took a deep breath, and began his tale. “My name is Antonio Edward Higgins, but I’m known on the streets as Racetrack. My little brother is Charlie Mathew Higgins, and our parents were Marco and Maria Higgins. I’m 24, and Char is 20...” His story continues for hours, the two sitting at that table long into the night. No longer were they hero and villain, but partners.


	8. Help is on the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot realizes that he may have feelings for Race.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, hope you enjoy!

“Let me get this straight, your name is Antonio Higgins, and your little brother is Charlie Higgins, as in the two boys that went missing in 2006, along with your father, Marco. But, you’ve really been living in Snyder’s refuge, doin jobs for him out of fear he would hurt your brother. Your father is still alive, and living somewhere in the west under the name Jeremy Shultz. He sold you to Snyder, after working for him for your whole life. Is that correct?” A seldom nod from Race answered Spot’s question and prompted him to continue. “But, after receiving one of your worse punishments because of a slip up when trying to kill me, you left the refuge and came to get my help. And I’m assuming that beating is the source of the many injuries you won’t let me treat?” 

“Yes, you’ve got everything right, can we just speed this up? If you recall, my brother is still in the refuge, and the spider is not known for showing mercy, and discussing my past isn’t helping him.” Race’s hands started shaking, a his voice began to become unstable the more he spoke. He was not going to cry. He’s tough, he’s Racetrack Higgins for god sake! And if there was anything criminals don’t do is cry. He’s just tired, angry, scared, and running on approximately four cups of coffee.

“I understand that, and I’m doing the best I can. But, you’ve got to work with me, I only need you to clarify one last thing. Why did Snyder need kids?” Spot tried to reason with the man across from him. He sounded frantic, and he had every right to be. But, if he was going to help, Spot would definitely need as much information as possible. 

“Innocence. Nobody suspects young kids of doing dirty work for one of the biggest crime bosses in New York. That’s why he wanted you, and me, and Charlie, and the Delaney brothers. Except, the only ones eager to do his work were the Delaneys. They practically grew up in Snyder’s refuge, their uncle was his right hand man. They begged their uncle to take them with him on his jobs. My father was eager to give us up, that’s why we went on that hike. Our mother thought he was finally going to be the father she always wanted him to be. But, he was just killing her, and giving us up to the spider. And, obviously your parents didn’t comply, so they were killed and you went into foster care. Though, since Charlie’s leg was crushed, he couldn’t be forced to do jobs, and was instead used as leverage over me. Now are we done?! Charlie could be getting beat, or killed right now, and you are still interrogating me! We have plenty of time for that after we rescue my brother!” At some point, Race had started yelling at the young man sitting across from him. His mind was running a mile a minute as he frantically threaded his fingers through his curly, dirty blond hair. Why could’t he understand? Race’s baby brother was probably being put trough the wort beating of his life, and this ‘detective’ was treating his pleas for help as if he was a two year old asking for a piece of candy. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath,” Spot commanded to the Italian clearly going through a panic attack. “I understand that you are scared, nervous, and tired. Right now the only thing we can do is dress those injuries of yours, get a good nights rest, and get help in the morning.” Spot looked into Race’s eyes. God, he was cute, but not really. Spot was just exhausted, he was not crushing on a criminal. His feeling would be sorted out in the morning.

 

After Race took a deep breath and nodded, Spot retrieved his first aid kit from atop the fridge. Never had he been so glad that Friday nights were Jack and Davey’s date night. He made his way back to the kitchen table, and held out his hand for Race’s arm. Race complied, and Spot pulled out the bandages and the anti-bacterial wipes. His arm was covered with pink dots, some faded and others red and noticeably new. There were more bruises than untouched skin, and his wrist were rubbed raw, clearly from restraints. He looked into Race’s eyes, expecting an explanation, but only getting a shrug in response. Anger made his vision turn red. Nobody should have to go through that, and the fact that the beautiful boy sitting across from him was just so used to it, was unacceptable. 

“Who did this to you? These dots, what happened?” 

“Um, the new ones are form Snyder. He did that after he caught me stealing one of his Coronas. He was yelling and his face was as red as a tomato.” A small laugh escaped Race’s lips that caused Spot’s heart to flutter. “I couldn’t help myself from laughing, that made him even more furious. He called over Morris and Oscar, they tied me down, landed a few punches, and held out my arms for the spider to do as he pleased. He kept yelling about how if I wanted a smoke, I would get one, went through a whole box of cigarettes lighting them and putting them out on my arms before he tired himself out. The faded ones are from my father. He treated me as his personal ash tray.” 

 

They sat in silence as the rest of Race’s injuries were taken care of. When Spot reached Race’s back, he let his fingers linger over several of the long, red lines trailing down Race’s back. There were lines of ever shade of red, and of every different length. Each one overlapping with another. Some were coated in dry blood, and some were still bleeding. Spot hurrying rapped bandages around Race’s abdomen and back. He handed him one of his old shirts, and led him back to his bedroom.

 

“You can sleep in here tonight, and I’ll crash on the couch. If you need anything come and get me. And Antonio, don’t worry we’re going to get your brother back.” Race smiled before disappearing into Spot’s bedroom. 

Spot made his way to the couch. What had he gotten himself into?


	9. The Return of The Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie after Race leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and liked this fic. If you want to give me prompts to write, my tumblr is underratedchipmunk. And I’m always open to just chat as well.

“Hey Ant, check it. I managed to get a whole roll of sourdough from the cook! We can spit it, instead of old porridge and milk!” Charlie looked around the small, dimly lit room, and a slight chill ran down his spine. The cell was completely empty, no Race and no note. “Ant? Ant where are you?” Charlie searched the small room the best he could with his crutch. He found nothing new, however, sitting down on his cot in defeat he did. As he plopped down, he felt a fresh breeze blow on his neck. This was highly unusual, since the window above his bed has never been opened. He turned and looked out said window, now he understood. Tony had left him, he was tried of looking out for his useless, cripple of a brother, and left. No, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Right? Tony had always been right by his side, they were a team. 

 

“So, the rat finally gave up on you boy?” Snyder stood at the door way, his goons behind him, plus a man Charlie felt like he should recognize. After he didn’t get a reply, Snyder’s gruff voice filled the void as he hit his switch against the metal door frame. “Answer me when I’m talking to you limp.”

 

Charlie jumped and stumbled out a shaky reply, “N-no s-sir.” 

“You can keep telling yourself that boy. There’s somebody here I need to meet. Your father, Marco.” The tall man stepped out from behind the warden. He looked exactly like Race, and Charlie might have believed he was, if not for his eyes. His eyes were deep brown, where as Race’s were faded electric blue. But, he remembered his brother’s stories of their father. The hits that came after late drunken nights, the pleads of their mother as the sound of fist hitting flesh filled the apartment, and Race shoving him under the bed so he wouldn’t witness the real reason Marco wore belts. The 12 scars running down his back were from Marco, as were most of Race’s nightmares. He backed up into the wall. He was not going to let this man back into his life.

 

“Hello Charlie, it’s been a while. I see your brother is still as useless as always” the man’s stiff voice struck fear into Charlie’s heart. He remembered that voice, that voice yelled at his brother and mother every night, until Charlie was eight, and for years before he was born. That voice terrified his only protectors, why shouldn’t he be afraid? 

 

“Tony isn’t useless, he’s more of man then you will you ever be.” He stood defiantly against the large man. Tony had taught him well, when you’re scared never show fear, always look braver then you feel. 

 

“Did you just talk back to your elders, boy? Tsk, tsk, tsk. That can’t go unfixed, right Stanley.” His father held out his hand, and Snyder’s switch was dropped into it, he nodded and the Delanceys approached him, with matching evil glints in their eyes. 

 

Morris got to him first, kicking his crutch out from under him. Charlie dropped to the floor, and instinctively curled into a ball, waiting for the kicks to start coming. Instead, rough hands grabbed his hair and pulled his face towards the light. “No brother to protect you now is there ya stupid rat. You’re gonna pay for your actions, just as your brother did” Marco spat in his son’s face before he continued his spiel. “You disgust me. Boys, you know what to do.” 

The last thing Charlie heard was Oscar’s smug voice savoring the experience of being aloud to soak him, without any type of intervention from Race.


	10. Meet the Journalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race’s first interaction with Davey. Also a it of a look in on Crutchie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry for all I’m putting crutchie through. Please forgive me!

Race woke up the crack of dawn simply by habit. Each morning at the refuge Morris wold bang on the cell door with his switch at four thirty am, signaling to Charlie and Race to get up and start on their chores. If they were lucky, some rotten bread would come through the door slot at wake up call. Without any chores to do, Race rolled out of Sean’s bed and walked around the bed room to try to completely wake himself up. Once he fully woke up, he realized he had to pee, six cups of coffee will definitely cause that to happen. He opened the door and tried to recall where Sean said the bathroom was. Was it two doors to the left, or right? Race was like, 60 percent sure Sean said left, so he made his way to the door and opened it rather noisily. Turns out, the bathroom was actually to the right. 

 

 

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my bedroom?” Instead of being greeted by a much needed toilet, Race found himself in the presence of one of Sean’s roommates. This one was tall, with really dark brown hair, and freckles that made his sky blue eyes pop. He was wearing penguin pajama pants, rainbow fuzzy socks, and a Wicked sweatshirt. He had stopped typing away at his computer as he waited for Race to respond, however he clearly had anxiety since his pinky kept nervously tapping along the edge of his laptop. Months of stalking had paid off, now Race knew this was Davey Jacobs, the man writing an article about him.

 

 

“I’m one of Sean’s friends,” Race stumbled through, making up a story as he spoke, “he eat me spend the night since my apartment caught on fire.” Race silently prayed that Davey would believe his story, it would take a whole lot of explaining if he didn’t.

 

“Nope, you’re definitely lying. SPOT THERE’S A STRANGE MAN IN MY ROOM USE YOUR COP SKILLS TO GET HIM OUT!” Davey easily shut Race down, and played the stranger danger card in one smooth move. Race was upset that he was caught so easily, but couldn’t help being impressed at how slick this kid was. 

 

“Okay, you caught me lying. But how did you so easily?”

 

“It was simple really. One- no one ever calls Spot by his real name. Two- if anyone was staying over, Spot would of told Jack and I. Three- I’m a reporter, if there was a fire I would’ve known about it.” Race’s look of surprise changed into his signature grin as Davey explained himself. “Wait don’t move a muscle. I’ve seen you before.” A flash from Davey’s phone signaled that he had taken a picture of Race. Even knowing as little as he did about Davey, Race knew he was probably running his face through facial recognition. There was only one picture of Racetrack when he was on a job, and it was on the laptop of the top reporter writing his case. And that reporter just had to be Davey. 

Saved by the bell, Spot appeared in the door way. “Davey, this is Tony, he’s a friend of mine. He’s not an intruder. Come on Tony let’s go get some breakfast.” Spot pulled Race out of the room and into the kitchen. 

“It’s five in the freaking morning, why are you already up and creating annoyance?” 

 

“I get up at 4:30 automatically, and i was only trying to find the bathroom.”

 

“Fine, just get some breakfast and sit down. We have a long day of rescuing ahead of us;” Spot took a long drink of his coffee before continuing, “and I am really not looking forward to explaining why I’m helping you to anyone.”

....................................

 

Everything hurt. Charlie’s whole body was throbbing and spots dance in and out of his vision. He was covered in bruises and blood, but there was no way he was giving in to any of his father’s demands. 

 

“Hold him up.” Marco’s gruff voice sounded and two sets of rough hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled Charlie off the ground. “Are you ready to respect your elders now boy?” Even from the distance they were apart, Charlie could still smell the stale bear and cigars roll off his father’s breath. 

 

“I’ll never respect a rat like you.” Charlie held his chin up definitely, and braced himself for the hit sure to come. Marco’s bronze covered fist came flying towards Charlie’s face, and a loud pop could be heard throughout the small room as he made contact and blood came pouring out of Charlie’s nose. The Delanceys turned him so his back was facing his father and ripped his tread-bare shirt off as Marco raised his switch above his head.

 

The only noises heard in the refuge that night were Charlie’s screams of agony.


	11. Meet the parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey figures out who Race is, and we check in on crutchie

To say breakfast was awkward would be a understatement. Jack kept winking and making kissy faces at Spot, as Davey stared at Race trying to place a name to his face. Race, however, dug into his pancakes as they were rather good. Well, compared to his usual diet of water and stale bread, anything would of tasted like ambrosia. 

 

Finally getting bored of making faces, Jack broke the silence settled over the small table. “So Spottie,” he began in a sing-song voice “you gonna introduce us to your friend here?” 

 

Spot did seemly the impossible, and deepened his scowl before replying to his brother. “Sure thing Jackie-boy this here is Tony.”

“Um actually, I’d prefer not to go by my given name, not too many fond memories attached to it. Just call me Race.” Racetrack he out his hand, ready for one of the two boys to shake. 

 

A loud gasp, as well as several colorful muttered curses could be heard as Davey finally recognized Race. “Sean! You brought a criminal home! You’re a COP, you’re ‘posed to ‘rested the people you’re investigating! Not bring them home!” Race swore he saw steam bellowing from the brunette’s ears. 

 

“Hold on, time out. What is happening?” Jack stood up and held up a time out sign. Jack had raven-black hair covered in paint specks, as were his hands. His skin was a medium olive, and his arms were covered in thin white scratches. He was wearing a gray NYU tee shirt, and black Rue Paul pajama pants. The gray made his sea green eyes pop, which also looked as if they had flecks of paint scattered about them.

 

“Your brother brought home a wanted criminal instead of arresting him!” Davey began violently gesturing again, almost knocking his coffee across the small table. 

 

“So... that’s Racetrack Higgins?” 

 

“Yes Jack, he’s Racetrack Higgins in our apartment, instead of in jail where he should be.”

 

“Davey, I’m sorry but he needs our help. As soon as we help him, he’s going to jail. Right Racer?”

 

Spot’s facial expression made him look like he was asking a question, but his eyes had a glare to them like they were saying “you better agree or else”. Tony decided he better agree. “Of course, just help Charlie and I’ll be out of your hair.”

 

Davey’s shoulders relaxed, as he settled back into his chair. “I still don’t like it, but I guess we better get to work.”

 

...........................

 

“Got ya” 

Charlie squeaked with joy as his older brother attempted to pull him out from under the picnic table where he was hiding moments earlier.   
Tony did manage to pull him out, using his nimble fingers to tickle Charlie’s stomach , yelling “ ‘ere comes the tickle monster” as both boys fell onto the ground giggling in childlike glee.

 

“Happy birthday Charlie.”

The light pain in Charlie’s head erupted into throbbing beats of hell as light flooded into his vision. Pushing down a groan, he sat up as much as possible, and saw none other than the spider himself staring down at him from his ‘throne’. 

 

“Well look who’s finally awake,” he growled, “just in time for another round.” At the mention of another beating, Charlie flinched, afraid that one of the Delanceys would be behind him with their favorite brass knuckles. 

“Or, if you’ve finally given up on fighting me, you can tell me where he is,” the spider offered, with an evil glint in his eye. 

“I already told you, I have no idea where he went. And for the record, even if I did I would never tell you rat.” 

“That was the wrong choice of words gimp.”


	12. Makeshift Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie’s rescuers come together and a little of Spot and Race fluff

White noise filled the apartment as more and more people poured into the small space. Spot had gathered all his siblings, their significant others, and any one else he thought could help them get Charlie.

 

Spot climbed on a kitchen chair and addressed everyone in the room, “Shut-up! This here is Race,who I mentioned in my email, and his brother needs our help. So, I want everyone to introduce themselves, and then we’re going to get started. Specs, we’re starting with you.” 

 

A tan face shadowed by round glasses piped up starting saying he was the Specs mentioned. Next was Romeo - a short Cuban with a heavy jersey accent, then Elmer- a average sized Brazilian clearly raise in queens, after that was Albert a fiery red headed Brit, Mush- a New Yorker who had a kind glint in his eyes, Kid Blink- a Brooklyn raised cubs fan sporting an eyepatch, Smalls- a 5’1 California born broadway dancer, Sniper- a deaf champion archer, Finch- Sniper’s cousin and a pediatric oncologist, JoJo- the group prankster from the Bronx, Les- Davey’s little brother about to graduate as class president, Sarah-Davey’s twin sister and Olympic trainer, Katherine- an investigative reporter tat worked along Davey at the New York Sun, Buttons- a dubbed “NewYork’s Best Nurse” by the Sun, and finally Henry- a physical therapist that works with Buttons at the hospital. 

 

Once introductions were made, Spot stood up again and began to unravel his plan into working pieces. Davey, Kath, and Specs were going to work with Race to put together as much information on Snyder and the refuge as possible. After they were done, Romeo, Blink, JoJo, and Les were going to crate a distraction so the next group could get into the bunker. The group going in would split up into pairs, Spot and Race were group 1, Jack and Smalls were group 2, and group 3 was Albert and Sarah. After they got Charlie out, Finch, Buttons, and Henry were going to treat any smaller injuries they could on the way to the hospital that they all worked at. Elmer, Mush, and Sniper were on look it, both to let the team inside if anyone was coming, and the alert the medical team when to get ready. 

 

They were ready. Tomorrow morning, they were going to get Charlie out. Specs, Buttons, Jack, and Davey left to get food and supplies for the rescue. Everyone was going to stay the night in the apartment so they could get up and leave as soon as possible. Once the group got back with the food, everyone filled up and settled in for the night. Specs and Romeo claimed the love seat, Sniper and Smalls got one of the air mattresses, while Albert and Elmer took the second one, and Mush and Blink took the last one. Davey and Jack disappeared into Jack’s room, while Kath and Sarah took Davey’s with Les sleeping on the bean bag chair inside. Buttons and Henry took the couch, and Finch and JoJo got the spare bedroom. 

 

Race and Spot shared Spot’s room. Even with the wall of pillows between them, they still woke up in each other’s arms.


	13. We’re a go

Dry sobs racked Charlie’s body as the kicking came to a stop. He began to gag, his stomach convulsing, as he thought up the little water left in him. The acid burned as it came up his throat, and right onto Oscar’s boots. He would pay for that later, but for now he got a short break as his father began to interrogate him again. 

 

A fistful of dirty-blond hair covered in blood and sweat was used to pull Charlie to his knees. “Where is he?”, a deep voice growled from above him. 

 

“I-I don’t know, just please, please stop.” 

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“I promise, I have no idea where he went. You have to believe me.”

 

“No, I think you just need to have your memory jogged.”

 

There wasn’t enough energy left in Charlie to even scream.

.........................

 

“It’s here on the right.” The two black SUVs pulled into the alleyway next to a abandoned looking building, that could of tipped with a light breeze. 

 

“You’re sure that’s the refuge,” Jack asked from the back of the van, “it looks kinda run-down for a crime bosses home base.”

 

“Trust me Jackie, this pose has been my living hell for years, there’s no way I could ever forget it.”

 

“Ok, whatever you say Racer.”

 

Spot got on the radio and give the signal, “Romeo, do your worst”


	14. Begin the rescue

Dull thumps were coming from each window, and they were getting louder by the second. Snyder’s right hand man, nicknamed the weasel by Race, had checked each security feed, and found nothing. Left without no other solutions, the old man went to check each window himself. A shadow appears on the wall, and a trickster enters, determined to do his worst. As his team lure the watchdog farther and farther away, JoJo Delacruz switches out the security feed with old tapes, snips the radio cord, and turns the security room into a madhouse fit for the hatter. “All through here Spot, if you want to go in it’s now or never.” 

 

“Copy JoJo. Alright everyone, here goes nothing.” And with a nod to his comrades sitting in the van behind him, Spot Colon slipped through an open window into what could only be described as a hell on earth.

 

............................  
The moment Spot’s feet touched the warehouse floor, the concrete floor, he felt the eeriness Racetrack described. There seemed to be eyes burned in the back of his neck, his footsteps echoed throughout the hall, and chills swept through his body. A dull thud singled that Race had come through the window after Spot. 

 

Race’s shoulders were sunken in, and his usual charisma had disappeared. He looked exactly like the terrified man he was when Spot found him. His voice was softer when he told Spot to follow him.


	15. Target Acquired

They had searched every room in the refuge and found no Charlie. The closest thing they found was dried blood in Race and Charlie’s room. They even checked Snyder’s personal office (though Race was not eager to go in) and still found nothing. 

 

“Are you sure there is nowhere else he could be?” Spot asked as he closed the office door. 

Race grimly shook his head yes, and quietly led the way to the basement. 

The if the refuge was hell, the basement was definitely the seventh circle. There were whips, switches, and broken brass knuckles littered around the floor. There were crates with glass and nails poking though the inside where people would be locked for hours on end, with only two small holes for air. Dried blood and dirt covered the floor like a blanket. 

 

Race knew the basement better than the back of his hand. He had been sent down here for “lessons” more times then he could count. In fact, majority of the blood was his.

 

“It’s safer if you stay up here, there’s a lot that could go wrong if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

 

“No way I’m letting you go down there by yourself.”

 

“Spot please, just trust me. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.” 

“No. Why do you care so much anyway huh? You could save Charlie by yourself. There’s a whole team of people outside waiting to help. What do you need me?”

“Cause I fucking care about you okay!” He closed his eyes and squeezed his fist once his confession was out. “I care about you. That’s why I didn’t take the shot, I love you.” 

 

Spot was too shocked at finding out Race shared his feelings he let Race slip down the basement stairs without him. He shook himself out of his daze, and went down the stairs himself. 

 

When he reached the bottom, he decided that it was easier to hide under the steps, rather then try to find his way around in the pitch black.


	16. This was not the plan

The old stairs creaked as Race made his decent upon them. At every creak, his fear grew that the spider would hear and come running. Once he reached the bottom, he could make out an outline of a slumped figure tied to a chair.

 

“Charlie? Is that you?” As Race came closer to the figure, he recognized more prominent features of his brother.

Race ran up to his brother and began to undo his bonds before Charlie interrupted him.

“Tony, you need to run, the spider, it’s a trap.”

“No way, I’m not leaving you, never again.” 

 

“Ant, please I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. Just go, I’ll be fine.” 

 

“I’m the reason you’re in this mess, I’m not leaving.”

 

“You should of listened to the crip boy.” A voice from Race’s nightmares lurked out of the shadows, as did the owner. The familiar broad shoulders and jutting chin of his father was terrifying to see again after so many years of only seeing them in ghosts. 

 

“Papa?” Race asked as if he was the same scared little boy shoving his brother under the bed all those years ago. 

 

Rage boiled in his gut and his vision turned red as he realized that his father was the one who had hurt Charlie almost beyond the point of recognition. His father, his boogie man was the reason his brother was hurting. 

 

As if reading his son’s thoughts, Marco said in his deep growl “The only reason the rat got beat was cause of you abandoning him so you could be with that fag cop.” 

 

Race lunged at his father, only to be pulled back by twin sets of rough calloused hands belonging to the Delancey brothers. He struggled against their grip, but it gave no avail. 

 

Spot watched this all unfold from the shadows, hoping that no one could see him, and biding his time until he revealed himself to the the group of people who were standing feet away from him. Though before he could, his radio did it for him. 

 

“Spot,” Jack said thorough the radio, “we found the spider, Shara and I are going in.” Spot paled and realized what he’d done.

 

“You little shit!” Marco screamed as he pulled out a revolver from his jacket. He pushed the barrel of the gun into the small of Race’s back. At his nod, the Oscar held a gun up against Charlie’s head. “Mr. Colon if you try to follow us, both of these boys will be shot and killed. Do we have an understanding?”

 

“Yes sir. But maybe instead of doing that, we can sit down and talk this through?” 

 

“Don’t you use those fucking tactics on me fag. We’re going to leave and you’re not going to try and stop us if you know what’s good for you.” He growled at Spot, then to Race pushing the barrel deeper into his back, “Move rat.”

 

Marco, Race, Charlie, and the Delanceys exited through the hidden basement door. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Spot grabbed his radio and yelled into the speaker “Jack, we got a major problem here.”


	17. Where did I go wrong?

The icy late night air stung Race’s bare skin as he stumbled through the door into the moon lit night. The revolver still hadn’t left his back, and his father’s grip was like iron on his forearm. Charlie was barely conscious as Oscar shoved him out the door, gun still against his skull. 

 

The group wandered the mostly empty streets until they arrived at a motel. Morris pulled a key from his pocket, and Marco shoved Race inside, as Oscar did the same to Charlie. Both Charlie and Race were tied to chairs with their backs touching. 

 

“Papa,” Race pleaded, “let Charlie go, he had no sin, I’m the one who wronged you, not him. Please let him go.”

 

“Sei sempre stato settimana” Marco replied without even turning around.

 

“Lo so.” Race slipped back into the Italian he had been raised speaking. 

 

................................

 

Spot met up with the rest of his team back by the vans. Specs had taken Snyder to the station to be prosecuted, while Henry wrapped a nasty gash on Sarah’s arm. 

There was too much happening for Spot’s head to keep up with. There were the positives, Snyder and Wisele were arrested, and Charlie was alive. But, he and Race had also been taken, 3 criminals were still on the loose, and a member of his team had been severely hurt. And then there was the elephant in the room, Race liked him back. He should be jumping for joy, but his feelings were just all knotted up in his chest, it felt like the elephant was more on his chest than “in the room”. 

He needed a new plan, and hopefully fast. They could be anywhere in Manhattan by now. Wait a second, this was New York, camera’s we’re literally on every street corner. He just needed to call Specs and have him log into ops. He was already down at the station and it couldn’t be that hard to find a group of 5 people with guns and injuries. 

 

Don’t worry Race, I’m coming for ya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco: you always were weak
> 
> Race: I know


	18. A reunion of sorts

Pressure evaporated as the ropes around Race’s wrist were untied.  
He was roughly shoved from the chair to the floor, and sat rubbing his wrist to try and stop the burning. He knelt in front of his father looking down into Marco’s boots. 

 

“Get rid of the shirt.” Marco barked to the Delanceys. His shirt was ripped open, exposing his bare back. Marci raised the switch above his head and Race prepared himself for the strike to come down. 

 

The pain was a thousand times worse that Race could ever imagine. The leather tore open the scabs from his last beating causing them to ouse blood. It turned old scars into white hot fire, and tore skin from bone. His scream echoed through his bones, and sounded of pure agony. His whole body longed for it to stop, but instead he felt that same anguish 30 times over. 

When Race woke up, he was again tied to the chair. He could feel the blood dripping down his back. His throat was sore from screaming, and with every move his body ached.

 

He was going to die here. There was no end to the pain he would go through, and he knew he wouldn’t survive it all. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do.


	19. Found in the Dark

“Ok, so according to Sniper they went toward Queens.” Spot’s voice came out through Specs cell on the desk in front of him. 

 

“Got it. I’ll let you know if i find anything” Specs said as he ended the call with his brother. 

 

He stared at his computer screen for hours going through security footage for any trace of Race and Charlie. Marco was smart, he avoided all open circuit cameras and left no trace of himself as he traveled through the city.

 

Specs clicked onto another camera’s feed expecting again to find nothing, but this time he got lucky. In the reflection of a store front on the edge of Queens, you could barely make out the group. They entered a building, and so far there was no footage of them leaving. He crossed checked the block and found a motel across from the corner store. 

 

He pulled out his phone and sent the footage to Spot with the address of the motel attached.


	20. A Threat of Sorts

There was a familiar sent in the air. It wasn’t the type of familiarity that gives you a sense of comfort, oh no, this familiar put every ounce of your being on edge. Everything was screaming at Race to run as fast as he could far away from here. 

 

He knew exactly what the smell was from. A cigar, one of his father’s specialty made coronas to be exact. And a specialty made cigar needs a special ash tray, at least according to his father that was.

The cigars were specially made so that they would taste better, and burn longer. Long enough to leave at least 20 nickel sized burns per cigar on Race’s forearms and shoulder blades. 

 

A toy for him to play with was all Race would ever be to his father. An ash tray, a punching bag, and someone to blame for all that went wrong. Those cigars were the foundation that years of torture was built upon. 

 

The smell of them took him back to his darkest days. He felt the old scars sting as if they were still fresh. Tears leaked from his eyes as it became harder and harder to breath. The breaths he did take were shallow and built a ball of anxiety up in his chest.

 

“Finally awake are we?” Marco blew smoke into Race’s face as his snarl came into Race’s vision. 

 

That was another thing that made Race and Marco so slimlar was their unnerving grins. Marco had a type of snarl that made you feel like a roach underfoot; weak and about to be smashed. Whereas Race had a cheshire cat smirk that gave you the overwhelming instinct to check for your wallet.

 

“So here’s how it’s gonna work, you’re going to tell me everything you know about the Colon boy. Or..” Marco strolled over to where Charlie was tied up and gave him a kick to the shin to jolt him awake. “I’ll let him know what was happening after poker every night.”


	21. Two sharp edges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up to all of these amazingly supportive comments and it made my day so I decided to pump out another chapter. Please remember to support all artists of any sort, we all live off of comments like a vampire would blood

“Antonio! Get your ass in here!” The drunken yelling traveled down the hall and into the kitchen where Tony was hiding with his 6 mouth pregnant mother. “And bring me another beer!” 

 

Tony entered the living room, beer in hand to the weekly poker game that went on between his father and his “partners”. The smell of beer and expensive cigars was overwhelming and almost knocked Tony to his feet. Instead it did something much worse; it made him drop the bottle. The glass shattered and the golden bronze substance oozed onto the carpet. Tony was frozen in fear of what was sure to happen next. 

“You useless fuck!” Marco screamed as he pulled Tony by his collar and brought the half full bottle he was drinking onto Tony’s head. He dragged him back up by his curly blond hair and struck his cigar against his neck again and again. The other men sat at the table filled with overflowing drunken laughter and began shouting insult and slurs at the boy wishing it would all end.

...................................................

 

No he did not want that for Char. Against his better judgement, Race feel on the sword with two sharp ends and took the deal. He sent a silent apology to Spot, hoping he would understand.


	22. Finally mostly safe

Danger was something Spot was accustomed to. It was dangerous living on the Brokelyn streets when he was evicted and was too prideful to ask Mama for help, it was dangerous to flick off Professor Pulitzer when he tried to fail Davey for writing about Jack and the rest of his group of brothers for his report on family, it was dangerous going undercover in the biggest gang in New York, heck, just about every aspect of being a cop is dangerous. But this danger is worse than any he’s ever faced. Now, not only his safety is on the line, but the safety of everyone he cares about most. His entire fucking family sat behind him on their way to bust down the door of a man holding his own abandoned sons hostage with the help of the two greatest assholes in all of New York. 

 

So, yeah, dangerous was more of a understatement. But the feeling running through Spot’s veins wasn’t trying to get him to back down and run away, but grounding him. It focused his vision to only seeing Race and Charlie safe. He didn’t have a plan, but he knew that his instincts were going to help him win this fight. 

.................................................

Charlie drifted in and out of consciousness. Presser built up around his wrist and hasn’t left, there’s occasional pressure against his temples, and he could guess what was causing both of them. The throbbing in his head helped him keep track of passing time, and distract him from his current situation. 

 

He tried to open his eyes, but they were too swollen to see more than a few slivers of light. Tony’s pain-filled sobs made his heart ache even more than his head. His father’s Italian slurs, and the Delancey’s snorts of laughter were the only other things he could identify happing around him. 

 

A loud thud entered the mix, along with more yelling. Marco cursed and a sharp click echoed in Charlie’s mind. Another thud and a crash. A pair of strong gentle hands lifted Charlie onto a stretcher and slipped a mask onto his face, and then darkness


	23. Between a rock and a hard place

Racetrack Higgins was born into a crap life. He was given a crap father, a crap job, and a crap last couple of days. But for once, his life was kinda maybe looking up for once. He finally got his brother out of the hell hole they were in before, he had a maybe boyfriend (still figuring that one out), and he was safe from his father. There was only one glitch. He still had to deal with the court system. 

Spot says he has a great lawyer friend ( at least that’s what Race thinks he said his memory was a bit blurred from the concussion). He did commit several felonies, but he was technically a hostage so according to Davey he may be able to get away with at most 10 years, less for good behavior.

 

Race has to stay in the hospital for at least two more weeks. He spends all day handcuffed to a hospital bed, except during his ten minute roll down the hallway, being guarded by some officer with no sense of humor. He isn’t allowed to see Spot or Charlie, and his visitors can only stay for 10minutes tops. His lawyer is supposed to be here soon. The lawyer is the only person that Race has no limed time with, and no guards. He still hasn’t figured out who his lawyer is, but he hopes it’s someone good. 

 

Three hours, and about 8 SVU episodes later, the lawyer finally shows up. He steps into the brightly lit room, and low and behold, its Davey. Davey has a quick word with the guard, and he quietly slips out of the room. 

 

“Didn’t think of you as the lawyer type.” Davey pulled a chair closer to the bed and began riffling through his bag. 

 

“I wouldn’t make jokes at the expensive of the person about to save your life. They want to put you on death row.” Davey looked up from his bag and pulled out a tape recorder. 

 

“I thought death row was reserved for murders and much worse, not no thief like me.” 

“Racer, think about it this way. You committed about 8 different felonies. You knew and shared classified information to a criminal, stole about 3million dollars worth in   
assorted items, breaking and entering, trespassing, public endangerment, illegal gambling, illegal selling and distribution of drugs, and lots of other misdemeanors. The governor is losing his control on New York. There is a drug war going on in the city, he needs to show he can handle it. The public is scared, and killing you will calm the public. Your his scapegoat.” 

 

“But you’re an amazing lawyer and you’re gonna find a way for me to stay alive and in prison the least amount of time. Right?”

 

“I sure so hope so. But first we really need to get to work on your case.”


End file.
